


Solivagant

by pressedinthepages



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Blood, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Multi, Panic, Shock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:54:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25146541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pressedinthepages/pseuds/pressedinthepages
Summary: You stumble into camp, covered in blood, and Geralt and Jaskier have to figure out what happened.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Reader, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader, Jaskier | Dandelion/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 178





	Solivagant

**Author's Note:**

> Reader Request: Geralt x Jaskier x Reader. Reader is covered in a bunch of fresh blood and their nose is bleeding. They are in shock (their eyes are wide, their breath is rapid and deep, their hands are shaking and they keep rambling about how they never knew someone could have so much blood in them. Geralt and Jaskier finally succeed in calming the reader down. (Grey's Anatomy 6x23 when April finds Reed is what I'm thinking off. It's on youtube 🖤🖤🖤) THANK YOU.!!!!!!!!

_ I swear if Jaskier doesn’t play something different, I’m gonna rip his damn fingers off.  _ Jaskier has been working on some new song, only humming absentmindedly as he scribbles in his little journal. He keeps playing the same string of chords over and over and  _ over,  _ and Geralt is * _ this _ * close to losing his mind. 

Geralt forces himself to take a deep breath through his nose, the scent of smoke and lute oil settling in his chest, settling his mind. He closes his eyes and lets his mind wander, slipping into something close to his meditative state. The air is quiet, the crackling of the fire and the repetitive melody of the lute drowning out the other noises of the forest they are camped in. He lets himself follow the music, breathing in and out with each echo of the same chords…

Until Jaskier’s fingers slip, missing a beat. He curses loudly, causing Geralt’s eyes to snap open as his state of relaxation shatters. Geralt flies to his feet, mouth open and intent on telling the bard off for being so relentless in his quest to annoy the ever-loving  _ shit  _ out of him tonight, but the sound of a twig cracking at the edge of their camp catches both his and Jaskier’s attention. 

Geralt turns slowly and sees you brace yourself on the side of a tree as you stumble into view. Your entire being seems to be in disarray, your purple shirt hanging askew and there is a tear in the side of your trousers above the knee. Your hair is wild and tangled on itself, and there is a small cut on your forehead, and another on the crest of your cheek.

The metallic stench of blood is overwhelming, burning the insides of his nose as both he and Jaskier rush to your side. In the light of the fire, Geralt can see now that your shirt isn’t purple, it’s blue, and drenched in blood. It stains your neck and along your forearms, and small drops fall down the point of the dagger still clenched in your hand. None of that is what really bothers Geralt, though.

Your eyes, usually bright and shining with life, are dull, as if a cloud had settled beneath your eyelids. You are staring at nothing in particular, your mouth slack as your chest heaves with every breath. Jaskier whispers your name, moving closer with a hand stretched out, as if towards a skittish deer.

The second his hand grips your arm you are shocked back to reality, staring into his eyes, so clear and blue it is almost haunting. Geralt mimics Jaskier, slowly walking towards you with his arms raised, palms facing you. He sees your eyes flit back and forth between them, blue and gold full of worry and confusion. He can hear your heartbeat, quick and panicked under your skin.

“What happened, love? We thought that you just went into town to grab some supplies,” Jaskier whispers, his voice low and soothing under the stars. Geralt sees your eyes start to shine with tears, but something is off in your expression, like you are not fully with them in the camp.

You meet Jaskier’s eyes, holding them in your own. Your voice wobbles when you speak, standing completely still and holding onto the dagger like a lifeline. “Did you know that blood has gold in it?”

Geralt can almost see the gears in Jaskier’s head turning, trying to figure out what’s wrong. “I-what? Uh, no, no I didn’t know that…” Jaskier whispers, not moving any closer until he figures out what exactly is going on. He glances back to Geralt, worry seeping from his pores. 

“It does,” you say, bringing Jaskier’s eyes back to you. “It’s only a little bit, but it’s there…” you fall silent, but your heart is pounding mercilessly against your chest. Your words start to come faster, pouring out of you in a rambling torrent of gibberish.

“You know, I’ve seen lots of blood before, I know what it looks like when stuff bleeds, it doesn’t make me sick or anything” your voice is growing higher with each breath, shaking and tumbling as tears begin to fall unbidden down your cheeks. “But, I don’t think I’ve really seen a  _ person  _ bleed, not like that anyway, I didn’t know we had so much blood, you can’t even really picture it until it’s all just spilled out on the ground and you can’t look away and you can’t move and you can’t breathe…”

Geralt swiftly moves forward, gently gripping your shoulders and turning you to face him. One hand moves slowly down to the dagger, covering your hand in his. “Look at me, take a deep breath. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

Under the metallic sharpness of blood, Geralt scents the sour tang of fear. Not fear of him, but of whatever it is that you saw, what you  _ did. _

You follow his instructions, keeping your eyes locked on his as you take a slow, shaky breath in and let it back out. You do that a few more times, growing more in control with each exhale. Geralt hears your heart begin to slow, still fluttering rapidly but not enough that he’s terribly worried. 

“Now,” he murmurs, making his voice as smooth and soothing as possible. “Tell us what happened.”

“I-I was on the way back here,” you start, your voice small and timid now that it isn’t fuelled by panic. “I was cutting through the woods when I heard men’s voices. They were talking about us, planning to sneak up on us in the night a-and kill us.”

Your voice breaks, sobs finally slicing through your chest as you crumble, Geralt surging forward to catch you. Jaskier moves too, wrapping his arms around your back as you cry into Geralt’s chest. The three of you sink to the ground, Geralt pulling the dagger from your hand and placing it safely out of your reach. Jaskier is murmuring quiet things in your ear, calming reassurances that you’re all safe and okay. Geralt isn’t sure what to say, so he settles on resting his cheek on the top of your head as he gently rocks you in his arms. 

You stay like that for what could be hours, days, you don’t know. But when Geralt feels you calm again, your chest no longer heaving with sobs and your hands no longer shaking with unbridled hysteria, he moves back a bit, giving you room to breathe. Jaskier’s head rests on your shoulder, his thumbs making gentle circles along your arms. 

“I killed them,” you whisper, Jaskier silently quirking an eyebrow at your words. “I snuck up on them, used the dagger...I got one of them in the chest, but I hit the other in his neck, and when I pulled back,  _ gods it was just everywhere…” _

Jaskier shushes you, crooning low in your ear as they both hold you tight. You can hear their hearts around you, Jaskier’s fast and light at your back, and Geralt’s slow and steady under your head. 

“Thank you,” Geralt says, his chest rumbling with the words. You lift your head, eyebrows crinkling as your mind races. 

“Yes, love,  _ thank you,  _ you saved us,” Jaskier’s voice is soft in your ear as more tears fall from your eyes. Jaskier places a light kiss to the skin still exposed on your shoulder, hugging you tight to his chest as he does. 

Geralt once again follows Jaskier’s lead, leaning forward and placing a kiss to your forehead. As he pulls back and wraps his arms around both you and Jaskier, holding you close, you relax into him and feel your mind start to finally calm. 

All of your legs are twisted together on the ground, your arms are crunched up against Geralt’s chest, and you can feel the blood drying on your skin and getting sticky. But as you sit, enveloped by the warmth and safety of the men you call your family, you would not move for the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading :) you can find me on tumblr @pressedinthepages


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